The Dark Knight: Joker Story (Chapters 1-5)
by xxJMLxx7
Summary: What happens when the Joker has to deal with someone other than the Dark Knight. (Completed, for now) Please review.


**Chapter One:**

Joker's POV

He laid flat upon his bed, staring up at the paint-chipped ceiling. Everything around him was quiet. His whole body felt as though it was attached to the mattress, sinking deeper and deeper into the seams as time slowly ticked on.

His eyes burned, wanting so badly to close and to reach that prolonged eternal slumber, but tortuous thoughts and memories forbade that. He stopped keeping track of how many nights he would spend aching for sleep, begging for it by the time the sun would rise.

The Joker's mind had almost slipped into a frozen day dream-like coma, when there was a deafening knock at the door.

"Whaaat…" he said in a hoarse voice, surprised that he had found the ability to speak at all. The door creaked open slightly and the Joker winced. The sound was almost too much to bear since he had become so accustomed to the silence.

"Boss, the shipments arrived," Hank, the Joker's right hand man, said. They had been waiting for a truck load of guns and explosives to arrive. The Joker felt the blood rush back in his veins and his body detached itself from his bed.

"Finally," he said in a tone that made Hank shiver. Hank wondered whether or not to back out of the room or to wait and lead the boss to the truck.

The Joker pushed himself up and straightened his suit. He ran his leather-gloved hands down his sides and into the pockets of his coat. His fingers continued down until they hit the beautiful, silver switchblade knife that rested inside the fabric.

Hank's eyes glanced down to where the Joker's hands lay and he turned and left almost instantly. Every one of the Joker's men knew to avoid him whenever he had a knife in hand; even if he wasn't showing the slightest bit of anger they knew he would find some reason to use it.

The Joker whipped out the knife and brought it up to his face. His eyes swept over the glistening weapon until he caught sight of his reflection within it. His tongue ran slowly across his lips and his other hand slid through his hair.

Suddenly he heard a gunshot echo off the walls of the warehouse where he and his men currently resided. Along with the gunshot, an immense amount of chatter had erupted from his lackeys. Some were cursing, others screaming at whoever had set off the gun.

The Joker clicked his knife shut and walked out of his bedroom into the dimly lit den of the warehouse. There was a large door that stood open and the ammo filled truck could be seen.

In front of the truck stood Hank, John, Chris, Kevin, and Charlie. All the guys were ganging up on Charlie, him being the one that set off the gun, some of them were saying things like "You stupid motherfucker, the Boss'll take off our heads if we waste any of his bullets."

The Joker crept up on them before they had even noticed his approach. "Charlie, Charlie, Chaaarlie…" he said, dragging out the third Charlie in a long sadistic tone.

"Getting a little trigger happy are we?" he added, tilting his head slightly and clicking his tongue.

"I...I'm sorry Boss, I thought the safety'd be on," Charlie stammered.

He was new and nowhere near as smart as the others. Smart meaning the others knew when to touch something that belonged to the Joker and when to go hide in the fucking corner.

The Joker walked closer to Charlie, snatching the gun from his hand and examining it closely.

"Hmm…AK-47, gas-operated, 600 rounds…beautiful," he had the gun pointing upwards towards the light, turning it from side to side.

"You ever wonder what a bullet feels like Charlie?" he asked, licking his lips tentatively. Charlie's eyes went wide and his voice caught in his throat. The Joker cocked the gun and shot Charlie point blank right in between his eyes. Charlie's body collapsed and a pool of blood seeped onto the floor beneath his skull.

The rest of the Joker's men remained motionless as they stared down at the body of the young, naïve boy.

The Joker mockingly blew on the tip of the gun and cackled loudly. His laugh was one of a kind, sinister and poisonous. Just the sound of it could strike you with such intense fear that you'd never sleep again.

He threw the gun to Hank, "Clean this mess up, we don't need any more maggots in this place," the Joker said, shoving the other men and howling with laughter as they just about jumped out of their skins.

**Chapter two:**

The streets of Gotham were dark and quiet, not even the sound of the wind could be heard. Everyone was ordered to a curfew by the Gotham Police Department, they were trying desperately to keep innocent bystanders out of the Joker's way. However, there were many stubborn civilians that still didn't take the Joker and his band of mobster wannabes seriously.

The Joker drove the explosive-filled truck recklessly down Gotham's mostly empty streets. He made sharp turns around each corner, causing an ear-splitting screech to ring off the sides of the buildings. Chris and Kevin were in the back with the bombs, being tossed around and slammed against every inch of the truck. They cursed loudly and shouted at their Boss to slow down, but in response he would simply laugh manically and press on the gas harder. Hank and John sat up front with the Joker, though they both knew they'd prefer to have been in the back. They tried their best not to move around too much as the truck flew down the road, neither one of them wanted to be thrown into the Joker himself. Who knew what he'd do if one of them made him crash.

John had his hand on the door, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles were white. Hank on the other hand didn't have much to hold onto, being that he was in the middle of John and the Joker, so he simply dug his fingers into the creases of the seat and hung on for dear life.

The Joker hadn't told his men where they were going, but he was bouncing up and down on his seat from the anticipation and excitement. His gloved fingers squeaked as they opened and closed around the steering wheel.

He took one more sharp turn and then hit the brakes so hard that each one of his men lurched forward and smacked into whatever was in front of them. The Joker turned to the two that were up front with him and smiled, his yellow, decayed teeth were visible in the glare of the street lights. "Come on boys, we got work to do," he said chuckling; he then threw open the truck door and hoped out.

Hank and John glared at their boss and rubbed their heads before hopping out as well. The two of them walked to the back of the truck and opened the other doors; Chris and Kevin were lying in a heap, one on top of the other. "Get up you sissies, the Boss is waiting," Hank said before walking off in the direction that the Joker had gone.

The Joker stood silently in front of the Gotham Day Care Center; he had a sickly twisted grin on his face.

Hank joined him a minute later, "We're not really going to be blowing up a Day Care are we Boss?" he asked while rubbing the back of his neck.

"Why Hank? Got a thing for kids?" he choked out, while trying to contain his laughter. Hank rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Guess me and the boys will start unloading…" Hank turned on his heels and stalked off back towards the truck.

**Three hours later…**

The truck had been unloaded and the Day Care was one big disaster waiting to happen. The Joker had his men hide bombs inside every inch of the building and when he was ready, when the moment was right…he would push the detonator and blow the place sky high.

"Boss…" Hank stood behind the Joker, his hands deep in his pockets.

"Yessss…" The Joker said in an acidic tone.

"I was just wondering…why exactly are we blowing up the Day Care?"

"Because, Gotham doesn't believe in me. They don't think that I'll do anything this… horrific," he said laughing, "I'll show them, they'll be running through the streets picking up their children's limbs after I'm done." Hank bit his lip and tried not to imagine what the Joker had just described.

"This isn't right Boss…can't we just leave the children alone?"

The Joker spun around so quick that if he hadn't been so angry it would've made him sick. He grabbed Hank by the back of the head and yanked his knife out of his pocket; he placed it roughly onto Hank's cheek. "What did you just say to me? This isn't right? GOTHAM ISN'T RIGHT...Putting their faith in a man that wears a rubber bat suit. These people need to be shown that he is nothing more than a pathetic creep who roams around at night beating up drug dealers. He can't stop me, none of them can..." The Joker had gone from threatening Hank to sinking into his own little world, talking in a deep whisper to himself.

Hank had wiggled his way out of the Joker's grip while he was staring off into space and instead of sticking around till the Boss came out of it, he ran back to the truck.

**Chapter Three:**

The Day Care Center stood tall and menacing as dawn approached Gotham. The Joker hadn't gone far from the building; he was too excited and far too paranoid, afraid that someone might discover the bombs before he had time to set them off. He sat in a dark alley, only twelve feet away from the Day Care, his legs crossed and his back against a dumpster. He twirled the detonator in his fingers and stared blankly ahead. Four hours he had sat there, four hours he had been sleeplessly awaiting the doors of the Day Care to open.

One thing that excited the Joker greatly was the fact that every single person within the building and around it was completely clueless, completely unaware of the danger and death that would soon be upon them. The Joker was a patient man; yes he would often get overly thrilled about destruction and antsy whenever he had the chance to cause chaos…but he was always patient.

The Joker was snapped out his thoughts when the sound of a car door slamming echoed in his ears. He leaned forward and glanced in the direction of the sound. A dark green Honda Civic had pulled up in front of the Day Care and a young woman, no more than twenty-three, had gotten out. The Joker moved a bit closer as the car drove off, the woman worked at the Center and she was the one he'd been waiting for all morning. The one person who had the keys to open the doors and jump start his master plan.

The woman walked slowly up the stairs, her black suede heels clicking loudly with each step. The Joker's delight and anxiety was heightened as he watched her fumbling around to find her keys. Once in her hand, the shiny, silver keys jingled as they were slowly inserted into the lock. The Joker could've sworn that he could hear the gears turning as the glass doors were unlatched. The woman stepped inside and disappeared from his view. The Joker threw himself back against the dumpster and sighed. The Day Care had finally been opened, but the only person inside was the owner. He couldn't just blow her up, no one would care. He had to wait a bit longer. No matter how long it took, no matter how much the anxiety tore up his stomach, he had to wait.

However, the Joker didn't have to wait very long. One by one, cars began to arrive. Some would simply drive up and drop off their children; others would pull into the parking lot and join the rest inside. The Joker felt more dangerous than ever, knowing that no one could see him in the dark alley, shadows and hushed silence had consumed him.

The detonator lay on the cold, cement ground before him, he was afraid that his jittery fingers might set it off too early if he kept it in his grip.

**Chapter four:**

A few more hours had passed before the Joker was satisfied with the amount of people in the Day Care. He pocketed the detonator and pushed himself off the ground. The streets were empty by now, everyone, except those within the Center, were off at work or going about their daily routines. The Joker glanced around from the corner of the alleyway and then nonchalantly strolled across to the building. He wanted to get a look at his victims and to study their oblivious expressions before he blew them all to pieces.

After crossing the street, the Joker snuck around to the side of the Day Care and peered into one of the open windows.

Thirty-four, there were thirty-four innocent little children running through the halls and rooms of the Center. He had gone from window to window, counting them all. So inconsiderate they were, knocking over pencil-filled cups, littering the floor with barbies and legos, screaming at the top of their lungs…why anyone would want to have one of those little devils the Joker didn't know.

He was absentmindedly watching one small boy shove a glue stick into his mouth when all of a sudden a young brunette, the same one who had unlocked the door, blocked his vision. The woman had rushed over to the boy and had yanked the stick out of his mouth, she was so close to the window where the Joker stood that he was surprised she hadn't caught a glimpse of him.

He watched her as she kneeled down to reprimand the child, her hair moved across her shoulders and swayed slightly as bits of wind seeped through the tiny opened window.

The Joker could smell the lilac scented shampoo that had once been in her hair and the coconut scented soap that had run over every inch of her skin. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Soon enough he was very aware that his arms were covered in goosebumps and a chill had run up his spine. These sensations would normally mean that he felt cold, but his body however felt as if it were on fire.

The Joker had never known anyone that had provoked such behavior, he found it unnatural and disturbing, yet a part of him wanted more of it, wanted the sensation to become stronger and constant. He knew at that moment that he had to have her, there was no other option.

The Joker backed away from the window and darted across the street to his hiding place by the dumpster. He would wait there once again, but this time he would be waiting for people to leave. He needed to wait until she was the only one left. Though enthralled by this new mission, he couldn't help but feel agitated that he could no longer go through with littering the streets with blood and limbs. The Day Care would still be destroyed, of course, but only when he had safely retrieved his prize. Once he had her out, he would detonate the bombs and make sure that she had nothing to return to if she were to somehow ever escape his grasp.

**Chapter five:**

Time seemed to slink by even slower than before as the Joker waited for the work day to end. Many times he found his fingers creeping their way toward the detonator, his impatience threatening to take over. The Joker didn't know how much longer he could just sit there. He wanted to see her again, the beautiful brunette who smelled of coconuts and lilacs. He'd give anything to see her, smell her, and feel her. His mind wandered to her long, deep brown locks, were they silky and soft or coarse and dry? Would her porcelain skin also be covered in goosebumps once she was in his presence? Could he somehow make her feel the way she caused his very soul to ache? The Joker was unsure but the very thought of finding out the answers to all those questions enabled him to stay still and to wait.

As the sun finally set, the Joker watched as car after car came and left the Day Care and only half an hour later the building was empty, except of course for the one person he wanted to be there. He peered out from behind the alley wall once again and saw the woman standing in front of the Day Care doors, her hands rested lightly on her hips as she stared down the deserted street. The Joker ran his tongue across his lips, tasting the rough, cracked skin that he often chewed upon when he was deep in thought. He focused a moment on the texture of his lips, feeling the uneven, broken surface. He bit on the bits of dead skin and ripped off a piece with his teeth. The taste of blood began to fill his mouth; the iron flavored liquid brought his thoughts back to his prize.

His eyes refocused on the glass doors and the Joker noticed that the woman had gone back inside, now was his chance to confront her. He stood up and brushed off his jacket, straightening it against his chest. He cracked his neck a few times and ran a hand through his hair before glancing left, then right; seeing no one, he crossed the street and approached the front doors of the Center.

The Joker's gloved hands stroked the metal handles of the door, savoring the exciting moment that he had been waiting for all day. His fingers wrapped themselves around one of the handles and pulled. The door creaked and the Joker slid his body through the opening. Closing the door quietly behind himself, he took in the brightly lit, long, white hall that stretched out before him. The lights made his eyes hurt and they began to water slightly, he shoved the palms of his hands into his eyes and rubbed them harshly. At first he only felt minor pain from pushing so hard against his eyes, but then a stinging sensation began. He often forgot to wash any remaining gun residue or gasoline off his gloves after each of his jobs. He hissed in pain and used his sleeve to wipe off his face. The Joker cursed quietly and decided to go find the girl, no longer wanting to waste time.

He peeked into room after room, but found nothing. After searching thirteen different rooms, the Joker became frustrated, wondering if she had snuck out the back without him noticing. He balled his hands into fists and kicked in the fourteenth door, it slammed hard against the wall and a shrill scream came out of the corner of the room. The young woman stood behind a desk, the back of her chair was pinned against the wall. She stared at him in shock, but the Joker simply smiled.


End file.
